


First Impression - Kakashi

by BridgeToTheSky



Series: For Lonely Skin [Kakashi Hatake] [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: And so is Reader, F/M, Fluff, If you haven't noticed I love posting new things, Kakashi's lonely, LONELY TOGETHER, Love, Probably lots of kisses, Rather it's healthy or not, Romance, idk - Freeform, kiss kiss kiss, necking, possibly smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:49:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4478225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BridgeToTheSky/pseuds/BridgeToTheSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The loneliest of people might as well stick together. Skin was meant to be touched, air was meant to be shared, and beds were meant to be slept in, not left to chill with the absence of bodies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impression - Kakashi

“You know,” you begin to say, feeling Kakashi Hatake’s cheek brush against the sides of your upper leg, “I really can feel a person’s soul, you know.” 

 

Kakashi had thought you were joking, earlier, when you had said that you had the power to feel someone’s soul, and that everyone had a different … taste, so to speak. Flavor. Impressions were made; images and smells, temperatures and sounds.

 

And none had been lovelier than Kakashi’s.

 

Chilling, like the air after rain, simple but sharp. Hands around your waist and firm but sad — so much sadness, under and above the surface, _suffocating_.

 

You had heard the sounds of wind chimes as the air willed them to gently brush into each other.

 

_ Lovely. _

 

“Oh?” Kakashi said, tilting his head backward to look at you with his single, lazy eye. “Is that so? Are you sure?” 

 

Knowing when Kakashi was jerking you around, you slapped his shoulder. “Yes, I do.” 

 

Kakashi chuckled. His fingers played against the skin of your shoulder, brushing against your cheek every now and again. 

 

Then, seconds later — “Arms,” he said. 

 

“What?” You asked. 

 

“Your soul would feel like arms,” he said. “In fact, I’m sure of it. Warm arms embracing.”

 

You blushed, gaze scurrying away from his. You would never know what your soul felt like, what texture it was, tastes and visuals were forever blank to you. That’s just not how it worked.

 

But what a lovely guess.


End file.
